Night's Silence
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: -Silence of the Lambs- What happens if Clarice and doctor Hannibal Lecter meet again one year after Bufallo Bill was caught, in rather... awkward circumstances? Hannibal/Clarice -REWRITTEN!


Set one year after Silence of the Lambs. I here give no reference to the rest of the quadrilogy.

* * *

Clarice Starling awoke from no particular reason. Her bright blue eyes opened and dashed around the bedroom cautiously. It might have been her education at the FBI, or it might have been necessary. A darker, tall figure showed itself at the door of her bedroom, blocking the light filtering in from the hallway. It didn't move, but she was sure it was there indeed.

She quietly reached beside her bed for the gun she kept there in emergencies. Maybe it had been the case of last year that had made her more scared, and urged her to keep her weapon nearer at night, when she was less powerful. Maybe it was the fact she finally had the right to own one. You generally use things more often when you're allowed to. That's how mankind is made.

Her fingertips scraped over the wood of her nightstand, unable to locate what she was searching for. Her hand searched farther, for maybe the weapon was further than she recalled. It wasn't there anymore. She swallowed, eyes flashing in panic backward and forth to the figure at her door. She wouldn't look away to search for the gun. She wouldn't. That would be very dumb. She had learned never to look away from possible dangers. They might hit you in the back.

A rather familiar laugh sounded, and Clarice really had to think before it hit her whose it might be. The curtains of her bedroom were drawn, but the light from the big, white moon pouring in from behind them and faintly illuminating the room offered her enough to see the door open further and reveal the figure she had thought but not hoped to be there.

Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal the Cannibal for most, held up Clarice's Colt .45 with his left hand, high enough so that she could see it. He made that one clacking sound with his tongue against his teeth again, and slightly shook his head as she slowly sat back up in bed, hands digging into the sheets in something between surprise, fear and maybe anger. "Clarice…" he whispered, spreading his arms much like old friends greet each other with a hug after years of not having seen each other.

The sound of her name coming from his lips sent a shiver down Clarice's spine. There was something about Hannibal Lecter that had always drawn her to him, yet scared her to death at the same time. The thought of being alone in one room with him terrified her. She swallowed again, as he took a few steps further into the bedroom, the door slowly opening further and letting more light into the room, illuminating it even more. She had never thought of buying curtains for the small little window in the hallway.

"Were you looking for this?" Hannibal questioned.

Clarice unconsciously pushed herself further against the headboard of her bed. She was caught like a deer in the headlights of a fast speeding car, though. And she knew it, too. The thought that he must have been by her bed side to take the gun without her even noticing made her lower lip quiver in fright. She then pushed her lips together in a reddish, thin line to hide her fear, even though she knew possibly better than anyone that Hannibal the Cannibal couldn't be fooled. She couldn't shed colors. It was still too dark in her room to do that. She, however, could imagine vividly the bright blue eyes of the man at the end of her bed.

She swallowed again, one hand carefully creeping aside for the switch of her night light. She should have known better, though. "Don't," it came from his lips, and she immediately retracted her hand obediently. She too knew better than possibly anyone else that Hannibal Lecter shouldn't be messed with. He was so much smarter than one would guess at first sight. He basically could get into anyone's mind, but Clarice thought of it as impossible to find anyone who could get in his mind instead.

He took some steps closer to the bed until he was right beside her. One hand reached for her cheek, and she quietly allowed him to stroke over it with a thumb. "You're shivering," Hannibal noticed. "Are you scared, Clarice? For me?" He questioned, his voice somewhat softer. It sounded like he was laughing at her. Clarice didn't know if that was true, though.

She swallowed, forcing herself to stop shivering and make her voice sound convincing and stronger that she felt as she spoke. "Do I have reason to?" She replied, casting a question back at him.

"Quid pro quo."

She nodded, biting down on her lower lip as she recalled those words from last year. He would give her something, if she gave him something in return. Quid pro quo. She thus reopened her mouth, but couldn't seem to find the words she wanted as fast as she would have wanted. It was best not to lie to Hannibal, but could she admit how scared she was for him? She sighed, then closed her eyes at the thought of his answer being yes, before opening them again and answering. "I might."

He again made that clacking sound with his tongue. "Come on, Clarice… That's no real answer."

She swallowed. "Yes."

"Well, you have no reason to be scared of me," he replied, putting down her gun on her nightstand. Even though she couldn't see it, she knew he was gazing at her, perceiving her reaction with those bright blue eyes.

"Does that have to convince me?" She questioned, nodding at the gun beside her without averting her gaze from his face. She knew that he wouldn't reply her. And thus she immediately directed yet another load of questions at him. She could have known he wouldn't reply them all either. "Why have you returned? How long have you been back? Why have you come here? How long have you been here?"

Again the clacking sound. "Clarice!" He exclaimed, and it sounded like the beginning of a serenade. Her mind was playing tricks on her. It usually did that when they were alone. "So many questions at once! Why don't you offer me to sit down after such long trip?"

She swallowed, looking over her bedroom to find no chair. Of course she had no chairs in her bedroom, but she no longer could think brightly. "S-sit down," she offered, closing her eyes against her better instincts. She thought of the rule she had learned at the academy. Never let your enemy from your sight. She immediately opened her eyes again. He had waited for her to open her eyes again, to sit down on the edge of her bed. Clarice knew her visitor was smiling. It was awkward how exact she knew how he reacted even though he was so damn hard to see through. She felt like he was playing a game with her.

"Why don't you offer me something to drink, Clarice?" He suggested. "My throat's dry from the travel. It would be appreciated."

"What do you want?" Clarice asked, voice less stronger than before and more corresponding with how strong she felt. She didn't ask this question in particular to what he wanted to drink, but more in general. What was he doing here? Why was he here, with her? She knew that Hannibal must have realized the intention of her question, but he played along.

"I would guess the coke in your fridge is good for me. And take something for yourself, too."

Clarice suppressed the need to ask how he knew that she had a bottle of unopened coke in her fridge. She never asked. She never would, either. Part of her told her that he hadn't had to check to know. That's what scared her most about him maybe. He never needed to ask. He appeared to know just everything.

She kept both eyes on him while slipping from beneath the covers and let her feet touch the floor before getting up. She still kept her eyes on him, while walking to the door of her room. He remained quiet noticing this. She never would get him, Clarice thought before slipping through the chunk of the door and taking a few steps into her hallway, before hurrying to the stairs and down to the kitchen to get him his damned glass of coke. She was smarter than going against him, but at the very same time, while pulling open the fridge and taking the bottle of coke before turning to her cupboards to retrieve two glasses, she thought of ways to get him from her house as soon as possible. The question then struck her how he must have gotten in to begin with, through the many deadbolts. While opening the cap of the bottle and pouring both glasses near the top, she easily told herself not to think about it. It would only make her more scared than she was. It would keep her occupied while she could and should use her mind to keep her eyes on him. She had that odd, particular feeling that he was up to something.

She swiftly closed the cap again, and put the bottle back in the fridge, before gathering both glasses and moving to go back upstairs. As she came from the kitchen, she could see the dead bolts on the door from the corner of her eyes still in place. Clarice just shook her head to try rid herself of the fear that caused it. He had gotten inside without moving the deadbolts, and there was no other way in. Maybe he was playing with her again, maybe he had locked them after entering and wanted to make her insane. Maybe he had sent her down to make sure she could see it.

As Clarice entered her bedroom again, Hannibal's head turned to the door, to her. She quietly moved her hand to the light switch, but stopped halfway as Hannibal said, "Clarice… It is so much nicer with just the light of the moon. Don't ruin this moment." She swallowed again, obediently continuing to make her way into the bedroom leaving the light turned off.

She walked closer to him, handing him one of the glasses. He gratefully took it, before whispering, "Cheers!" at her, and taking a sip. He swiftly turned to put his half full glass on the night table, before reaching to take her entirely full one and putting it beside his, then patting the spot in the bed beside him. "Why don't you sit down and tell me how you have been since we last spoke?"

Clarice didn't fail to notice him turning around the questions. He was offering her to sit down in her very own house. She didn't obey, unconsciously crossing her arms before her chest to look stronger than she felt again. She always felt the need to act stronger than she was whenever he was around. "I have been good," she said, nothing more.

He nodded, before getting up from his seat and letting his hand stroke her cheek again. "You look somewhat different than last time I saw you."

"I have become a year older," she said, hands falling to her sides again as she realized it most likely had no effect on him either way.

"Of course, Clarice," he said, before leaning in to her. Clarice's heart thumped in fear as he leaned in to smell her hair, letting his hand wander down from her cheek to lift some strands into his fingers, pulling them to his nose. She could feel his breathing in her neck, as he just pushed his nose into her hair, and sniffled.

Hannibal eventually retracted. "You're using other shampoo than last year," he noticed. "It suits you much better," he added, before leaning in once again, letting go of her hair before letting his hand slide down over her chest. It halted where the swelling of her bosom began. She swallowed in fear once again, as he quietly pushed his nose in her neck and sniffled from under her ear to her collarbone slowly. Clarice's eyes closed in something she refused to recognize as pleasure. "Your perfume hasn't changed," he whispered. "There's no need either," he added, before letting his lips drop onto the skin at her collarbone. Clarice's mind whirled in different directions at once, thinking about what the teeth covered by those lips had done to others. She had even seen results of it. The thought of the very same man with his cannibalistic manners kissing her sent Clarice into a panic she had never felt before.

Hannibal retracted. "I have told you that there's no reason to be afraid of me. I'm not here to hurt you, Clarice."

She swallowed, again forcing herself to relax. Clarice's eyes closed, and soon she could feel the Doctor's hot breath on her lips, and his experienced finger tips sliding down over the light orange satin of her rather short nightgown. Too soon, they then came to a halt by the hem of her nightwear, lightly stroking the skin of her thighs. His lips moved over hers, and no longer did she think about what Hannibal Lecter had done with them before. She just enjoyed as their lips brushed together over one another, and panted into his mouth as his teeth cautiously took Clarice's lower lip in between. Something far away in her mind urged her to caution, but her senses were so much stronger.

She easily obeyed as Hannibal quietly brought her leg up and hooked it around his waist. Clarice's leg remained in place as he slowly moved his hand up to her thigh again, pushing up the fabric of her nightwear on the way. Right before the tips of his fingers would touch the skin of Clarice's bare ass, he suddenly caught hold of the material, letting his other hand go further down to the hem of her nightgown as well, before pulling it up. Clarice's hands rested on his shoulders to steady herself as his hands no longer gave her support.

Fully aware of the fact she was entirely naked as Hannibal carelessly dropped her nightgown, Clarice quietly opened her eyes to look at him. Morning had come nearer, but still it was too dark to perceive any expression that might have been readable on his face.

She could feel herself being lifted in his embrace, as he easily hooked her other bare leg around his hip. Hannibal turned them around while reconnecting lips with hers, and laid her down on the bed lovingly. Clarice never could have guessed that he could even be like this.

Their lips suddenly disconnected as Hannibal sat on his knees between her legs. She could hear the rustling of material, and the sound of metal against metal. The sound of a zipper. Clarice could feel the breath on her breasts and lips again as he slowly reached up to kiss her again. Her hands slowly reached for his chest, which was bare unlike before. Clarice quietly allowed herself to trace the muscles, as his lips suddenly left hers, and began working their magic on her left nipple. His hand easily slid under the swell of her breast, lifting it, before letting go again. He then repeated it a couple of times, but faster, before letting his lips lock around the peak that had only hardened, and sucking.

Clarice winced, arching her spine up to him for more touch. One of her hands ran down his chest to his lower abdomen. That's where he caught it. Clarice's eyes shot open in surprise. "Oh, I have more to give you before going over to that, Clarice," Hannibal whispered, letting his teeth scrape over her nipple.

"No, please…" Clarice begged, panting loud.

"Of course if you really insist…" he whispered, before letting go of her hand, and sitting up between her legs again.

Clarice carefully listened to the sounds coming from him; to the sounds of more material rustling and being shed. When Hannibal Lecter laid himself down between her legs again, she immediately could feel his throbbing, hard manhood between them a couple of inches above her mound. Clarice's hand moved down once again to take hold of his hardness, and lead it further down. Hannibal's hand met hers. As he slowly lead the tip of his hardness up and down between her labiae, Clarice slowly retracted her hand, and draped both around his neck.

As Hannibal allowed himself to push forward into her, a scream of pleasure escaped her mouth. She hadn't actually been with a man for quite a while. It had happened occasionally that she picked up men for one-night-stands, but not in the last couple of months. Clarice immediately locked her legs around his waist, urging him deeper inside her. That was enough of a cue to convince him that Clarice wanted to be taken bad, and hard.

Who was he to deny her her wishes, keeping in mind how good she had obeyed to him not only tonight…


End file.
